Geoff of Vulcan
by RedShirtSurvivor
Summary: This is a companion piece to Thus One Goes To The Stars detailing Dr. M'Benga's time as an intern on Vulcan. I just couldn't get enough Geoff.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** When I introduced M'Benga into Spock and Uhura's universe I became intrigued by him thinking, what kind of person does it take to live as an alien for 4 years and what might his experience have been. Since then I've been constructing this whole thing in my head. Hopefully this gives some insight into his role in _Thus...The Stars._ This is my first time writing fic with mostly original characters so this should be fun!Let me know what you think.

* * *

When Geoffrey M'Benga applied for and accepted the internship in the interspecies ward, he assumed that there would be some diversity among the physicians. As it turned out though, the off-worlder population on Vulcan was the lowest of all the Federation planets. And most of the non-Vulcans were diplomats or Starfleet officers, leaving him the only _alien_ on the whole team. So everyone's preconceived notions of humans were thrust upon him.

The atrium of the Shi'Kahr Medical Center was an oasis. No matter what time of day he stole away to the area, it was deserted. He guessed it was because Vulcan doctors were perfect and always got sufficient rest and had no need of a break!

It was all starting to be too much, though: the casual—often blatant—racism, the ridiculous workload and of course, the weather. He couldn't do four years of this and he wasn't sure what made him think he could. And since he was alone, he allowed himself a few tears. Because he was tired and lonely and he wanted to go home.

Then a few tears turned into a lot. Until he'd watered the lapel of his medical robe, which he'd been using to wipe the moisture away.

Had he been less self-involved at the moment, he may have realized that someone else had entered the atrium.

The woman moved with considerable haste and grabbed the first sturdy thing she could get her hands on. She gripped one of the trees that sat in the middle of the room. She tried to breathe slowly and evenly and to compose herself. She's never been so shaken in her entire life. It was fortunate that the atrium was empty, otherwise, she might have to explain.

Just as she started to calm down, she heard sniffling, which of course meant that she was in fact, not alone. Strange, considering that almost no one used the atrium.

She rounded the tree and saw a figure, bent in half, with its head in its hands. She could have—and likely should have—taken this opportunity to leave, probably undetected. The person was crying and her staying was a violation of privacy. But she didn't leave. Instead, she reached in the inside pocket of her robes and pulled out a handkerchief. She extended the swatch to the person on the bench and waited for him to take it, which he did, looking up sheepishly.

"Are you hurt? Do you require assistance? I'm a healer."

"Yeah," the sniffler said. "So am I."

"You must be the intern."

"How do you know that?"

"There was only one person invited this term and I heard the intern was human."

"That's me. M'Benga. The human intern."

"I didn't intend any offense. I was only trying to answer your question, M'Benga."

"Geoffrey."

She tilted her head questioningly.

"My name is Geoffrey."

"I am Kril'es Ek Seleya."

"I can't pronounce your first name."

"Kril'es Ek is my surname. Seleya is my given name. You may address me as such."

"Well, thank you. Seleya like the mountain?"

"Yes."

"That's a beautiful name."

"You honor me."

"Say, since you did such a good job answering my first question, how about I pose another?"

"Very well."

"What is a Vulcan doing with a handkerchief? Where do you even buy one?"

"That is two questions, but I'll answer both." She sat on the bench next to him. A conversation would be a welcome diversion from the reason she'd come into the atrium in the first place and he seemed to want a distraction too. "I didn't buy it. It was given to me by my mother when I completed my training as a healer. It is necessary because I'm a mental health professional and marriage counselor, specializing in natural marriage bonds."

"I don't think I understand. Natural marriage bonds as opposed to what?"

"Traditional marriage bonds. Vulcan parents select a mate for their child when they are seven and the two children are bonded. That is tradition. In some instances however, adults will develop bonds on their own, whether they were bonded at seven or not. Those cases tend to be very complex."

"So do some of your patients cry?"

"I don't feel comfortable divulging that kind of information. But I can say that the people who come to me are troubled, sometimes tortured. And when one is that desperate, that which was previously impossible becomes quite possible indeed, maybe even unavoidable."

He folded the handkerchief in his lap and placed his hands neatly on top. "Your work sounds important."

"I like to think so. However there is great stigma on Vulcan surrounding mental illness and in certain circles natural bonds are considered a problem."

"Why?"

"Because they are not logical," she said gravely. "And that brings you to a total of eight questions. I will ask one now, one that perhaps is equivalent to eight."

"Shoot."

"I don't want to hurt you, Doctor."

"No, I meant go ahead. That's what humans mean when the say shoot in that context."

"I see. I'm not even armed. I wouldn't have been able to shoot you anyway."

"That's a comfort. Now, what's your question?"

"Nine. And my question is: Why were you crying?"

"You want the long version or the short version?"

"I want the true version."

"It's all too much and I can't do it. I'm hot and I'm tired! And I can't take any more racism. I think I should just cut my losses and go home."

"I'll address each one of your concerns individually. First, if the temperature is uncomfortable, you could purchase a cooling vest. A well-made vest can be worn discreetly under the clothes and no one else would have to know. Secondly, if you are tired, you should rest."

"But I can't. Because if I do, it looks like weakness. Thirty minutes into my shift, I've got doctors asking me if I need to take a rest—because I'm human. And no, I don't need a break after half an hour, but at some point during my sixteen hour work day, yes, I need to rest."

"Only you know your own limitations and you must respect them. And concerning the prejudice you're facing, I find it regrettable. But keep in mind that their words and actions do not shame you. They are shaming themselves. You are obviously a qualified physician or Chief Vess would not have invited you here. And from what I understand, you have become more than just an intern. The general consensus is that you're more of a protégé."

"Really?"

She nodded. "It could be that the illogical attitudes being directed toward you have less to do with your race and more to do with the fact that they're threatened by the attention you're getting from Vess."

"No, I still think it's a race thing."

"Perhaps it is both in equal measure."

"Perhaps. You know, this is the longest conversation I've had with anyone since I've been on this planet."

"I consider it a privilege."

"I think I could take the rest of it if I wasn't so isolated. I'm a social creature and all this alone time makes me uncomfortable. You have a solution for that?"

She leaned forward, bracing her forearms on her knees, her hands folded primly between them. Then she turned her head to look at him. And she was beautiful, the kind of beauty that you can't take in all at once. "More conversations such as this?"

"Sounds logical."

"You'll find that's true of most things I say."

"Only most?"

"Logic is subjective, not an absolute."

"No?"

"No."

"Interesting."

"Indeed."

"Um, what are you doing for dinner? Do you eat dinner?"

"Today I do."

"With me?"

"Very well."

"I'll meet you at the main entrance at 2100?"

She nodded and stood. "Until 2100."

For the first time since arriving to Vulcan, he felt like he had something to anticipate. And though he didn't want to be eager, he felt like he was making a friend. A really, really pretty friend.

When he arrived at the main entrance, she was waiting for him, reading on one of the couches in the lounge area.

"What are you reading?"

"A play." She slid the PADD in her purse and they started for the door. "I have an appointment to see it later this week and I thought it would be prudent to re-familiarize myself with it."

"What's it about?"

"It's about a woman who treks across the forge alone because she's heard tales of Surak and she wants to join his cause."

"Sounds good."

"I've always found it interesting."

"I didn't know Vulcans had plays or anything like that." She looked at him flatly so he rushed to explain. "On earth, most of our plays and movies—entertainment in general, really—are about love or some other emotion. I just can't image what you write a play about if it's not emotional."

"It's a classic woman versus nature/woman versus society plot. It's about determination and the pursuit of a better way of life."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I have a lot to learn."

"In theory, we all do."

"You're very philosophical, aren't you?"

"It's side effect of treating the mind."

The restaurant was busier than he expected. There were groups of doctors he recognized from the hospital dining together. There were also couples who were definitely on dates, even if they weren't holding hand or gazing at each other all doe eyed.

He and Seleya were seated at a table near one of the windows. It provided him with a view of Vulcan he hadn't had before. People were strolling down the street, some of the pairs touching fingers, others not. Some of them were in casual clothes, others of them were more dressed up. _Maybe they came from the theater_ , he thought to himself.

"Is this a typical Vulcan evening?" He nodded to the window and the scene outside.

She was in the middle of taking a sip of water and waited to sit it down before she spoke. "In Shi'Kahr."

"The city's alive."

"I don't think Vulcan life is as clinical as you imagine it is. We do find pleasure in life, in all the things that other people enjoy. We make time for our families and friends. We have music and art and dining establishments, even games and sports."

"It's all new to me, that's all. But since the internship is for four years, I guess I have plenty of time to learn."

"You've decided to stay?"

"Yup. If there's anything you can expect from humans, it's tenacity."

"Good. You'll need it."

Throughout dinner, she was kind enough to explain all the menu items and how they were supposed to be eaten. She gave him a few pointers on table manners, too. Like how even the food that looked like finger food was _not_ finger food! She talked more about the play, reading excerpts where they were appropriate.

They settled the check evenly and left the restaurant. "This was really nice." He said, tucking his hands in his pockets. "I needed this."

"I come to serve."

"Did you drive to work?"

"I don't have a personal vehicle. I either walk or take public transport. Did you drive?"

"I don't have a car yet. I've been on the bus. I could walk from my apartment to the hospital, but the heat would kill me before I made it to the end of the street. I'm looking for a car but I just have no idea about how to go about it."

"I'd help, but I have no experience in this matter. My family has never owned one."

"Interesting."

"Not very."

"No. Not really," he agreed, fighting a small smile. "Anyway. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes. Good night."

"Good night. Sweet dreams." He started toward the bus stop but her voice stopped him.

"I don't dream."

"Then, sleep tight." She seemed equally puzzled by that statement, but he decided to leave it, since he could see his bus rounding the corner.

His apartment was quiet when he got home, but not in the sad way it had been quiet that morning. Thankfully, his music and players had arrived earlier that week, so he took out one of his vinyl records and put it on the turntable. What the music lacked in sound quality, it made up for in atmosphere.

He poured himself a glass of wine and stepped out onto his balcony. The city below him looked different now, not as inaccessible. Just a few moments ago, he'd been part of that throng, taking advantage of the mild night like everyone else.

He took his time finishing his drink and put the empty glass in the dishwasher, which he would start after he'd loaded tomorrow's breakfast dishes.

There were several messages waiting for him on his comm. The first was a reminder that he needed to pay his dues to the Interspecies Medial Exchange. The second was from his mother, who he affectionately called Admiral. In his loneliness, he'd done the most desperate thing he could image and actually reached out to his parents. She didn't respond to his letter, her communique was actually just a transfer of credits from her account to his. There was a message from his father, Commodore, to the same effect, but he'd attached a small note.

 **Proud of you, Son!**

Geoff rolled his eyes but sent a response to both the Admiral and the Commodore. They were bankrolling all the personal expense involved in this venture, including the penthouse apartment he was writing them from. The one way they'd ever come through was financially and he saw no reason for that to stop now. They were happy to do it when they found out that he'd passed one of the most rigorous selection processes of any such program. Just like they'd been happy to send him to Harvard to earn his MD and Starfleet Academy after that. Not that they deserved much credit for that since all officers got to send their kids to the academy for free.

Still, he wasn't one to bite the hand that was literally feeding him, even if it was the least they could do. Their contributions allowed him to spend his salary on higher pursuits, like music and the dues for all the organizations he belonged to.

Once that was taken care of, he changed the record and took a shower. Unfortunately, the medium didn't let the music play indefinitely, so he switched to his digital collection and let his classical playlist put him to sleep.

* * *

He found Seleya in the atrium around the same time they'd been there before. He'd washed, pressed and folded her handkerchief before giving it back to her.

"I wonder why no one comes here." He mused, sitting on the bench.

"So have I. It seems like considerable cost could have been conserved if they had omitted it. It's a relatively new addition."

"Well, maybe that's why. People have their routines and if this isn't part of it, then why come here?"

"Why indeed."

"Why were you here yesterday?"

"I'd just finished with a particularly difficult case. I can't give you specifics but I can say that it was a severance." She explained when she saw how confused he looked. "I ended a natural bond, something I try to avoid at all cost and never recommend. They are much stronger than their traditional counterparts. Severance of any bond can be deadly. They'll live, though. But I don't know what kind of life they'll have. I am of the opinion that one cannot live long or have true peace if they are not bonded to the right person. And it was not easily done. They were deeply connected. It took hours."

"It sounds like surgery."

"It's like removing the heart from soul."

He took in a sharp breath. "I'm sorry you had to do that."

"If I hadn't, they would have gone to someone else, and they probably would have died. It requires a specialist. I understand the medical and metaphysical aspects of it. Priests and general physicians can't understand both sides of the issue, just one or the other."

"Where'd you learn?"

"A dual disciplinary program. I studied at a temple while I studied at the VSA."

"I can't imagine doing what you do."

"It's not always so tragic. Often times, it's very rewarding."

"I think you're the most interesting person I've ever met."

"I'm sure that's an exaggeration, but I'm flattered nonetheless."

Their conversations continued like that for the remainder of the week. They'd meet in the atrium for a few minutes. She would let him unload about his day, everything that wasn't protected by doctor patient privilege. Most of his complaints were about his workmates anyway. But he was thrilled by the things he was learning from the chief. And she appreciated hearing them, even secondhand. Insight into a mind like Vess's was an invaluable opportunity. She shared details too, speaking vaguely about a joining or a severance and how she'd processed it. Each one of her cases affected her, either for the better or the worse. There were occasions where she was so spent afterward that she could barely make it from the meditation rug to her chair. It was a relief to be able to admit that without any shame.

Four days after their initial meeting, Geoff was sure that he'd made a friend and could already tell that it was affecting his work. His bedside manner had improved, which was a considerable asset when dealing with non-Vulcan patients. He could focus more during his instructional hours and everything was generally better. The chief noticed his increased productivity too and brought it up as they traveled from the operating theater to the lecture hall across campus. The chief would be addressing a group of med students and Geoff had been invited to sit in.

"May I ask," he prompted, his fingers steepled in front of him as he walked, "what accounts for the difference?"

"I took care of some personal affairs that had been distracting me, sir."

"I see."

Elsewhere in the hospital, Seleya was escorting one of her patients to the main entrance. It had been a routine session with one of her couples.

"Until next time."

"Your service honors us, Healer Seleya." The husband looked at his wife in a way he never would have six months ago. The doctor inclined her head and watched as the exited the building, locked in the finger embrace.

She turned to go back to her office when she felt a hand grab her upper arm. Before she knew what was happening, her head was connecting with a wall and her feet were no longer on the ground. A small squeak escaped her as she tried to orient herself.

She was being held by a Vulcan male. All his features were contorted and his eyes were wide, flashing with something she couldn't presently identify. She kept his gaze deciding that this was not a time to show weakness. He had his hands fettered on both her arms and she was just close enough to the floor for her toe to graze the ground.

She stopped struggling and took a quick glance at her surroundings. Everyone in the bustling artery of the hospital had come to a standstill, astonished and uncertain.

She swallowed and looked back at him, directly in the eye. "Do you require assistance?"

"Confirm your identity," he growled.

"I am Kril'es Ek Seleya."

"I am not mad. I am not illogical."

"I believe you." She said sincerely. "Do you require assistance?" It was possible that this man had been improperly severed or that he was in the throes of the blood fever, either way, he required attention.

"It hurts."

"Tell me where."

Over his shoulder, she saw a security guard approaching. She tried to signal him to stop with her eyes but either he did not understand or he ignored her. The guard attempted to neck pinch the man, but before he could apply any pressure, he was sent flying across the lobby with a loud roar.

"Do not touch me! Tell them not to touch me!"

"No one touch him. The situation is well in hand."

The guard landed at Geoff and Vess' feet just as they reached the main entrance. They looked up quickly to track the direction he'd come from and saw Seleya, being shaken, keeping a completely placid face.

"Seleya!" M'Benga started to run in that direction but was snatched back by the chief.

"Kroyka!" She commanded. "The situation is well in hand. What is your name, sir?" She asked him calmly.

"I am not V'tosh Katur. I am not mad." His voice quivered as his lip trembled. She could see the tears building in his eyes.

"No. you're not. A mad man would not have come seeking help. Your very presence here is proof that you are sane. Please, Sir, tell me your name,"

"Selden."

"Greetings Selden. Live long and prosper."

All of a sudden his grip on one of her arms went completely lax while the other slid down to her wrist as he dropped to his knees.

"Peace and long life," he nearly sobbed. "Help me. It hurts."

"I am a psychiatrist and a marriage counselor. If you require a general practitioner, Selden..."

"I'm a GP," M'Benga volunteered. Somehow, he'd managed to edge his way to the front of the crowd and was still moving closer. The chief was directly behind him.

"Get away from me," Selden warned.

"Do you need my help?"

"This doesn't concern you!"

"Okay, alright. I get it. You don't need me, but I'm guessing you need her. Right? And I don't know if you've noticed, but her hand is turning green, so I think you're holding her a little tight, maybe loosen up a bit?"

He looked at his hand as if he were seeing it for the first time. His sobs came fully now as he put both of his hands on his thighs and bowed his head.

"I am not insane. I am not illogical. I am not V'tosh Katur."

Seleya kneeled in front of him and handed him her handkerchief. "I know, Selden. I can help you. I can make it stop hurting. But I can't treat you here. Come to my office."

Geoff gave her a wide-eyed warning look, shaking his head vigorously.

She stood slowly and waited for the patient to do the same and allowed him to follow her down the corridor.


	2. Chapter 2

Geoff was trying not to panic watching Seleya and her disturbed patient walk down the hall together, but he felt like he had to do something. He started to move in that direction and once again felt the chief's hand hold him back.

"We can't just let them go off together. I don't think he wants to hurt her, but I also don't think he's fully aware of what he's doing. He could kill her and not realize it until it's too late."

"I have no intention of letting that happen, but you are dealing with a Vulcan. Your human bravado won't serve you well in this case."

"So what do we do, Sir?"

The elder man turned and glanced at the pair again. "Healer Seleya," he called out. "My student has never witnessed an example of holistic healing. However, I think it may round out his learning experience. Might we observe?"

"Only if my patient is agreeable."

She looked at Selden and he looked at the other two men appraisingly, then at Seleya's hand. It was just starting to return to its normal color.

"Very well. But I will not allow anyone to touch me."

"They will not touch you, but in order to treat you I will have to touch you. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

"Good. Let's continue."

They followed at a cautious distance and Geoff was surprised that such a flimsy excuse had actually worked.

"What about the lecture, Sir?"

"We have some time. Besides, this will prove to be more of an education."

As they walked, Selden eyed everyone in hallway, huddling closer to Seleya whenever anyone passed them. He kept looking over his shoulder at the chief and M'Benga to make sure they were still at a respectable distance.

When they finally got to their destination, they passed through her waiting room. She had patients, seemingly puzzled by her tardiness.

"I ask that you excuse me." She said. "I have an emergency and I believe it will require the rest of my day. Please reschedule all of today's appointments," she told her assistant. "You may schedule on my usual day off if necessary."

He answered in the affirmative and she went into her office, leading Selden directly to the mediation rug in the corner.

"Typically, Selden, there would be a short interview before my examination, but given the circumstances, perhaps we should just get on with it. I want you to understand exactly what will happen. And since Dr. M'Benga is here to learn, I will briefly talk you through what I intend to do.

"First, I will enter your mind through your psi points. The strongest receptors are here." She turned on a projection of Vulcan anatomy and lit up the points she was talking about.

"There are twelve points suitable for our purposes. I will start with points one through three. If I find that our needs are different, I will use any combination of points between one and twelve. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Just make it stop hurting."

She had him sit cross legged in front of her as she knelt. She rubbed her hands together and flexed her fingers. Then she pressed her fingertips together before pressing them to his face in exactly the places she told him she would.

As soon as her skin touched his, she gasped. She clenched her eyes shut and they began to flutter like she was struggling to open them. They both shook and she gasped again, until she was choking. She readjusted her fingers, moving them as if someone fighting against her. She shifted on her knees and bit her lip so hard it turned a bright green. Selden growled in his chest and clutched the area rug under him, twisting it in his fists.

Then, as suddenly as the convulsions had begun, they were over. The patient sighed and so did the doctor, simultaneously. Her eyes opened slowly and she continued to explore his mind in a more peaceful fashion.

She finally pulled her hands away. When she did, the patient looked like a different person. His tight, aggressive posture had relaxed and his features were softer now.

She nodded and he stood. She pressed her palm flat against the floor and balanced all her weight on that arm until she waivered. Then she tried again with both hands, getting slowly to her feet. Her step faltered as she made herself upright, but she gripped the desk to keep from toppling.

Geoff wanted to help, but he was still unsure about the patient and didn't want to make any sudden movements and undo what she'd spent the better part of an hour doing.

When Seleya spoke again, her voice was low and raspy. "Do you agree to have these two physicians in the room when I diagnose you?"

"I do."

"Very well. You are not mad. You are not illogical. You have a mental illness caused by a chemical imbalance. It can be treated with medication. It will act to regulate your brain chemistry. That being said, you've suffered great mental distress for a long time. It's my professional opinion that you should spend time in a rehabilitation facility. There they will monitor your medication and your reaction to it. You will also receive counseling and therapy."

"But I am not mad. I will not go to another sanitarium."

"It's not a sanitarium. It is a mental rehabilitation facility. I have been to the asylums and sanitariums. This is nothing like that. You have my word."

"I have been told that I am illogical and insane my entire life."

"You're not. Your mind works differently, but a difference is not a defect."

Geoff chuckled softly, thinking that more people should think like Seleya.

"Are you mocking me, human?"

"What? No! Not at all."

"You laughed."

"You misunderstand. I was agreeing with the healer. A difference is not a defect and I wish more people understood that. I'm different. I'm a human living and working on Vulcan and I've been treated like that difference makes me defective. I'm not mocking you by any means. I apologize if it seemed that way."

"I can confirm," Seleya said, finally getting her voice back. "When I met the doctor, he was considering leaving Vulcan because of it."

The chief looked at M'Benga and the younger doctor quickly looked away.

"You stayed." Selden said.

"I did. Healer Seleya helped me to appreciate that anyone who treats you with prejudice doesn't humiliate _you_. They humiliate _themselves_."

"Selden? Will you check yourself into the treatment facility?"

"For how long?"

"I cannot give you a specific duration. You've been plagued by this affliction and all the stigma it unfairly carries for the majority of your life. You won't recover overnight, nor should you expect to. It will take more than medication to heal you completely. But you won't be there forever. That I know."

"Very well. As long as this is not an elaborate scheme to sequester me from polite civilization, I will go."

"My only goal is to see you well. I'll escort you during transport."

"Can I come? I'd like to see this place."

Everyone looked at Selden who nodded his agreement.

They parted ways with the chief at the door of Seleya's office, and he started in the direction of the lecture hall. The other two doctors and the patient were escorted out one of the hospital's side doors by a transport technician. He was a tall, hulking man. Selden's defensive posture returned and even Geoff may have stood up straighter.

"It is standard procedure," she explained when Selden looked at her suspiciously.

They piled into one of the hospital vans. It was outfitted with medical equipment, including sedatives and hand and foot restraints. The patient hesitated when he saw the restraints but Seleya explained again that this was standard procedure.

"I will not use them unless you present a danger to yourself or someone else in this vehicle."

"I am not dangerous."

"Then we have no problem."

The van hovered low for a while until they were out of the city, then it pulled up to a higher altitude until it was flying. M'Benga though he should have known that a hospital like Shi'Kahr Med would have a Commercial Transport Vehicle, a clever hybrid of a car and a ship.

"I need one of these," he remarked. "They make personal versions. PTVs. This is the kind of car I need."

"Why?"

"Because once you've traveled at warp, puttering along in a traditional car just isn't enough. Plus, I'd be able to go long distances much faster."

His logic escaped her but she chose not to comment at the moment. Instead she watched her patient. He seemed less than confident about being this far from the ground. Something she entirely understood. She'd made this trip more than once, so she was used to it now. But the first few times she'd done this, she had to remind herself of the principles of aviation and why this CTV would stay aloft.

She decided to distract him with questions she would have asked during her normal intake process.

"How often do you meditate?"

"Twice a day."

"What technique do you use?"

"Technique? I-I meditate as I was taught to meditate by my father, as his father taught him."

"Every mind is different, Selden. It is not reasonable to assume that the type of mediation that suits one would suit another. At the facility, you'll learn to personalize your mediation program to maximize its effects."

She plied him with other relevant questions for the rest of the ride. Did he have any triggers? What are they? How does he seek to avoid such triggers? What does he do when avoidance is impossible? What caused today's episode?

He told her that he hadn't slept for some time and even when he slept, it was fitful. He became irritable and paranoid. Restless. No amount of mediation corrected it. It made it worse. His thoughts cycled. An attack-of what sort he didn't know-felt imminent. He'd done research into healers, who could help him.

"Choosing you was logical and illogical." He admitted.

She was fairly certain she understood why choosing her would be logical, so she asked him to elaborate on the latter half of his statement.

"I cannot explain. Your face. Of all the faces I have seen in the past few weeks since these symptoms have flared, your face was the first one I felt I could trust."

"I am honored." In her peripheral vision Seleya could see Geoff with his hand raised slightly. "Why are you doing that?"

"May I say something?"

"Speak, Doctor."

"That's called intuition. It's a very useful thing to have."

"Intuition." The patient said, testing the sound of the word.

"Thank you for your input, Dr. M'Benga. Can you tell us more?"

"It's instinct. An inherent understanding. When you saw her profile, you understood that she was someone you could count on. Granted, I'm no authority on logic, but that doesn't sound illogical to me. Especially since I know that the good doctor is _very_ trustworthy."

He nodded thoughtfully, thinking that Geoffrey was the second person _ever_ to assure him that he was not illogical.

They finally came to a stop in front of a large wood and stone structure in the middle of a lush wooded area. There was a canopy of trees, light filtering through the leaves, painting the ground with complex shadows.

"This is the cloud forest," Seleya told both of her companions.

"I didn't know such a place existed on Vulcan," Selden said to no one in particular.

They stepped onto the large wrap around porch and through the door of the facility.

The inside of the place made Geoff think that the building may have been a private residence at some point and later converted. The receptionist greeted the doctor like she knew her well and Seleya had an air of authority about her here.

A woman, petite and unremarkable, came out to them. Geoffrey was introduced along with the patient. As they walked along, both men did their best to take in their surroundings.

Selden was led off to intake by Seleya and the small woman. In the meantime, a man who introduced himself as the director of the Cloud Forest Treatment Center offered to give M'Benga the tour. The director seemed almost proud of his facility, speaking at length about the differences between this program and others.

He'd spent years researching mental health treatments from across the Federation and the rest of the galaxy. He'd carefully chosen the most effective therapies and adapted them for Vulcans. He had high praise for Seleya and her input into their methods. Several of their therapies had been instituted by the woman herself, most notably group sessions, which was a radical approach for their culture. They also used aromatherapy, Andorian physical therapy, art and music therapy and of course, animal therapy. They were the only non-Terran establishment to make use of horses in their program. Their unique location meant the steeds could thrive there in a way they wouldn't be able to on any other part of the planet.

He learned that the building had served many purposes in its lifetime, first as a private home and then a school, now as a rehab. It reminded him of the old colonial mansion of one of his exes. It was a big rambling house, set on a sprawling plantation, having been in the girl's family for centuries. He half expected her to come from around one of the corners and cover his eyes, speaking with her intense southern drawl. "Guess who, Geoffrey." He could still hear the way her voice went up to a squeak on the last syllable of his name.

"This place seems almost familiar to me."

"We strive for familiarity. We want to put our patients in mind of an old family home, even if they've never been here before. The more familiar it seems, the easier it is for them to adjust to their surroundings."

"In that case, job well done."

They walked by one of the common areas and Geoff spotted a piano.

"May I?" He asked, gesturing to the instrument.

"Do you play?"

"I do."

"Very Well."

He sat down and played a few keys to see how well it was tuned. It was no surprise that it was perfect. He'd almost forgotten how long it had been since he'd sat down to play the piano, but as soon as his fingers touched the keys, it eased an ache he hadn't know was there to begin with.

His trip from earth to Vulcan had been set against a very dramatic playlist of songs that he'd curated for this turning point in his life. So when he began to play, it was one of these songs that came to him. He hadn't intended to sing, but it came naturally. He attracted an audience, which was nothing new, but for the first time, he felt slightly uncomfortable, especially since there was no applause at the end of his song, just silence.

He eased past the patients and staff who'd come to watch and thanked the director for the use of the piano once they were back in the corridor.

"They seemed heartened by your playing, Doctor."

"Really? How can you tell?"

"I know my patients."

"I suppose you do. Well, I'm glad I could help."

"Healer Seleya is here at least three times a month to preside over the group sessions. Perhaps you could return and play again. The piano doesn't get as much use as it should."

"Yeah. I wouldn't mind that at all. I can play another song now if you like. I just didn't want to be a distraction."

"That would be agreeable."

He nodded and returned to where he'd been to play a song in the same spirit as the one he played before. Now he was able to note the rapt attention of this listeners and the nodding of heads here and there.

At length, Seleya entered the space. "I've been looking for you." She announced.

"You found me. And for future notice, if you ever need to look for me again, you'll find me where the music is."

"I'll keep that in mind. Selden would like to see you before we leave."

"Really? Okay."

Selden was sitting on the edge of his bed when they came into his room. He looked a little lost, but much less agitated than he had earlier in the day.

"So, how do you like it, "Geoff offered by way of a greeting.

"It is not like the other places I've been. It is as Healer Seleya promised it would be."

M'Benga took a seat near the bed. "You took a big step today. You should be proud of yourself...or not proud of yourself, but you know...proud of yourself."

"I will take that as a compliment."

"Please do."

There was a pause during which time Selden looked out the window and then down at his hands. "You may return whenever you like, Doctor. There are many things I think I'd like to learn about earth and you are probably the best source of information that I have on that subject."

Geoffrey recognized the loneliness in this man and knew all too well the kind of excuses one could come up with to avoid admitting that they were lonely. "Sure. Once I get my car, I'll visit you often. It's beautiful here and they have a piano, so…"

"Good. Very well. In that case, good evening, Doctor."

"Good evening."

At some point, it had become evening, without Geoff noticing the day ebb away the way it had.

"How do you get up here three times a month without a car?" He asked as they made their way to the front.

"Public transportation."

"How many buses does it take?"

"There is a bus stop near my house that takes me to the maglev station. The maglev stops not far from here. Then I take the gondola from sea level up into the forest."

"Yeah, cloud forest is right. We're quite high up."

"It's the altitude that accounts for the ecosystem."

"Makes sense. So is that how we're getting home, public transportation?"

"The vans should still be here."

But it wasn't. Instead there was a town car style PTV in the driveway of the facility. The chief was leaning against the driver side door, waiting.

"I sent the van back." he explained. "I will escort you to Shi'Kahr."

"What brings you all the way out here, Chief?"

"I wanted to make sure that the patient was settled and I needed a word with you, Dr. M'Benga. Get in."

Seleya got into the backseat to distance herself as much as possible from the two men and their impending talk.

Vess waited until the vehicle was at full altitude to speak. "Did you have any intention of telling me that you were leaving Vulcan?"

"Sir, I…"

"You must know what a privilege it is to be invited to this program. And at the risk of sounding self-aggrandizing, you also understand the privilege of working so closely with me?"

"Yes. Yes, I do, Sir. It was just a really bad day. I'm not ungrateful. I'm really not. I know that this is the opportunity of a lifetime."

"You should have approached me with your concerns."

"Well, quite frankly, Sir, I didn't know I was at liberty to do so."

"I am concerned with anything that might affect your work. Doctor M'Benga...Geoffrey, I know what it is to be alien. When I was your age, there was not half the diversity in medicine that there is now. I know what it is like to be the sole representative of your entire people. I understand that pressure."

"I want this. All of this. I didn't actually want to go home with my tail between my legs. But...it was just a really bad day, Sir."

"Understood. But there will be no more talk of leaving Vulcan until your internship has expired."

"Yes, Sir."

"You also should have told me about any prejudice. There is no room for that on my team. Skill must be acknowledged regardless of race."

"I didn't want to cause any trouble."

"Illogical. The trouble is not reporting the prejudice, it is the prejudice itself. It cannot be rectified unless and until it is acknowledged."

"Yes, Sir."

They were nearly back in the city when Geoff broke the silence. "Seleya and I were going to have dinner. Would you like to come?"

This was the first Seleya was hearing of these plans, but offered no objection since she found them agreeable enough.

"My wife is expecting me home."

"You can bring her if you like."

"That would require that I go get her."

"Sure, actually that would be great. I want to take Seleya back to the hospital and look her over."

"For what?" She finally spoke up.

"You were shaken pretty hard today. I saw—and heard—your head hit the wall. And then after the meld you were staggering all over the place. Plus you've been favoring that wrist all day. I just want to give you a good once over, then I'll leave you alone."

"I'm fine."

"You're fine when I say you're fine."

"Dr. M'Benga is right. You should be examined. I will drop you off at the hospital. There is a restaurant directly down the street from the main entrance. You can meet us there."

Once they'd been left at the front entrance, he took her to the chief's office. He'd been given the access code shortly after his arrival.

"You have the entry key?"

"Yeah, why? Is that something special?"

"Quite."

"Oh."

He took her to the adjacent examination room and had her sit on the bio bed. Her vitals were fine and the scans he did revealed no head trauma.

"Alright, let me look at your arms."

She looked at her own form and wondered how she would show him the places Selden had gripped her without revealing too much skin.

"Take your shirt off."

"Excuse me?"

"Shirt. Off." He repeated, vaguely miming the action. She hesitated. "You want me to get a female nurse in here? Am I making you uncomfortable? I'm sorry. The service kind strips you of all bashfulness."

She didn't know why she was reluctant. His interest was purely medical, she knew that. But it was something about him, in this moment, that made her overly aware of herself. For instance, she remembered that her bra was very utilitarian, a plain skin colored holster. She thought of the birthmark on her back, a constellation of freckles as few shades darker than the rest of her.

"I'll go get a nurse." He said decidedly.

"No need." She crossed her arms in front of herself, grabbing the edge of her shirt on both sides. Then she pulled the shirt over her head, feeling the cool air hit her centimeter by centimeter. When he got close, the fine hairs on her skin stood on end, but she told herself it was just because she was cold.

He drew in a sharp breath, looking at the camouflage colored bruises on her upper arms. "Why didn't you say anything earlier?"

"I put the pain out of my mind."

"Yeah, well, you'll have you teach me how to do that one day." He crossed the room and retrieved the derma healer and the corresponding cream. "We use a different cream on earth, you know?"

"That one protects the sensitive telepathic receptors on the surface of the skin from the derma healer. They would be dulled by it otherwise."

"Chief told me. My first lesson in interspecies medicine. Don't take anything for granted when you're working on a different species."

"Wise advice."

He washed his hands again before uncapping the cream and putting a small amount on his fingertips. His touch was light, careful, but it was confident. He moved in slow, progressively widening circles over the marks. Then he waved the derma healer over the spot in a deliberate, measured motion.

She tried to ignore his proximity and the fact that up until that point no man had ever seen her without a shirt or touched that much of her body.

"Put your shirt back on and then I'll take a look at that wrist."

She followed his instructions, grateful to be covered again. The wound on her wrist stung when he touched it and she instinctively pulled away.

"Sorry." He flashed her a smile that seemed more apologetic than mirthful, not that she was an authority on smiles. He scanned the area with a tricorder and nodded. "He bruised the bone. I'm going to need a different do dad." He left the derma healer on the tray beside her and went to get the wand for bone fractures and breaks. "This'll only take a second. It's not so bad, but I wish you'd said something earlier."

"This was not a priority. Selden was the priority."

"I understand, _Doctor_. Good as new!" He told her once the wand had completed its cycle. But I want you to wear this." He sat at the chief's computer and printed a brace. "Just for a day or two. See, I made it look nice, like jewelry." He held up the open work, metallic-looking cuff proudly. "And they say I don't know what women want."

He slid it on her. It was mildly constricting, but not uncomfortable. And it did _almost_ look like a regular bracelet.

"Thank you."

"It was logical," he shrugged. "Ready for dinner?"

She nodded and helped him set the examination room to right before they left for the restaurant. It was the same one from the first day they met.

The chief and his wife were already seated.

When they approached, Geoffrey pulled Seleya's chair back from the table. The chief and his wife recognized the gesture. The ambassador never failed to perform it for his human wife at formal events, but neither of them understood the significance. It seemed easier to breech the subject with Geoff than Sarek so Vess' wife, T'Mor, asked him.

He did his best to explain chivalry to them, but it was a complicated subject since even human women were divided on the topic. Some women expected it while others resented it.

"You are obviously in favor of this chivalry." T'Mor observed.

"It's the way I was raised. Bibi—my grandmother—was very traditional. She made me pull out her chair even if the chair was bigger than me. I opened every door and stood whenever she came or went from the room."

"Who is looking after her while you are on Vulcan?"

The chief looked taken aback by his wife's prying but said nothing.

"She um…she died when I was six."

"I grieve with thee."

"Thank you."

"You are an orphan, then?"

"Wife."

"Not in the strictest sense of that word, no ma'am. Both of my parents are still living. I'm what they call a Starfleet Orphan. After Bibi died, I went to a boarding school and my parents continued to pursue their careers."

"I see."

"Perhaps," Vess interrupted, "we could discuss topics more appropriate for a first encounter."

"Yes, Sir. What do you do, Mrs…Mrs…?"

"S'igen Lo'uk."

"What do you do, Ma'am?"

"I'm a designer, specifically flatware and hollowware."

"A designer? Wow."

"Geoffrey was under the impression that all Vulcans were doctors, professors and statesmen." Seleya offered.

"That is regrettable. We have much more to offer."

"Well, in my defense, back home the only Vulcans you hear about are scientists, professors and statesmen. You never hear about a Vulcan designer at New York Fashion Week or a Vulcan director at Cannes."

"Interesting."

T'Mor spent the rest of the dinner trying to give Geoff—and the rest of her medical-minded audience—a crash course in art and design.

When dinner was done, the chief offered to drive Seleya home. She tried to protest, but Geoff accepted for her, declining for himself since he lived so close to the restaurant.

"Goodnight," He said in a quiet voice. He was standing close enough that she had to tilt her head up to make eye contact. She felt like if she breathed too hard her chest would expand and brush his. "Get home safe."

"The same to you."

He nodded a respectful salutations to the elderly couple and started on his way to the bus stop.

* * *

A/N: Many thanks to all who read/reviewed and favorited this story. I always appreciate your support. Let me know what you think of this chapter one way of the other :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** It's been a while but I'm still here. Hope you like this installment. Let me know what you think either way. Also, if you have any translation questions, I'll try to answer them.

* * *

The next morning, Geoff work up to a text from Selaya that said:

 **No atrium today. Fully booked.**

He responded with:

 **Okay. Pace yourself and see you later**.

He was still worrying over it when he arrived at work. Not because he was looking forward to his day a little less now, with the knowledge that he wouldn't see her. It was because he'd seen what melding with Selden had done to her. He wondered if it was always like that, and if so what would a whole day of that be like. He had great respect for what she did, even if he didn't fully understand it.

The only thing that broke his ruminations was the sound of his name as he passed the nurses station on the interspecies floor. One of the nurses—whom he'd never seen before—held a PADD out to him.

"Good morning," he responded, taking the device and looking over his schedule, which was cued up and waiting for him on the screen. "Thank you, nurse…" he let the title dangle, indicating that he was waiting for a name.

"Kovar Sovan."

"Kovar is your sur name?"

"Yes, Doctor."

"First one I've heard that I can almost pronounce. It must be rare."

"It is."

"How do you preferred to be addressed?"

"Sovan will suffice, Doctor."

"Okay. Thank you Nurse Sovan."

He continued down the hall to the lockers and stored his things. The breakroom, which was apparently called the refreshment room on this planet—since breaks were few—was adjacent to the bank of lockers. He'd finally run out of all the coffee he'd brought with him which meant that he had to settle for what came out of the synthesizer.

"Coffee. Black. Hot. Just like me" he commanded the machine, with a little chuckle.

The machine made a noise a lot like a buzzer on a game show, letting you know you'd gotten the answer wrong. The words **Coffee is not a recognized food or beverage** flashed across the screen. Now he was sure that with no Selaya and no coffee this would be his worst day yet.

By mid-morning, he broke down and asked the new nurse—who by that time he'd discovered was not new, but had been out on leave—how to reprogram the machine. It was a big to do, with someone from maintenance coming down, looking through a list of items. After what seemed like too long, he found it and added it to bevy of "recognized beverages." Only it tasted like it had been made by someone who'd never even been in that same room with a proper cup of coffee.

Sovan had stayed nearby while the matter was resolved and saw the instant repulsion on the doctor's face.

"Is it not satisfactory?"

"No. It's not. Do Vulcans not drink coffee?"

"I image that some do. I have heard that some Vulcans who spend long periods of time off planet develop a taste for it."

"I need coffee. Real coffee."

"The Terran Quarter might have some."

"The what?"

"A small area of Shi'kahr frequented by off-worlders. I was under the impression that all humans living on Vulcan lived in that neighborhood."

"I didn't even know about it. I live in the Talok High Rise. Is it near there?"

"Not far."

"How far is it from here?"

"About ten minutes."

He tilted his wrist to look at his watch and realized that he wouldn't have enough time to get there and back before he needed to be on to his next patient.

"Is there something programmed in this machine, a drink that promotes energy?"

The nurse took out his ID card and waved it in front of the synthesizer. "I use this brew when I find my energy waning."

It smelled strong, earthy and reminded him of pu erh tea which was promising. It tasted similar too, far better than the "coffee" he tried drinking. It was enough to get him through lunch.

When the noon break came around, the cafeteria reminded him of a bad middle school trope. The tables were divided by cliques. One discipline sat here, another there, and nurses, doctors and techs all sat separately too. He'd learned the hard way on his first day that no matter what his ID card said, he was not welcome at the table with the interspecies doctors.

Just as he decided that it would be useless to look for a friendly face in this crowd, he noticed Sovan. It wasn't too hard to do because he didn't wear his hair like everyone else. It was relatively long and coiffed but flattering on him.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Doctor? The other doctors are at that table."

"I am not welcomed there so…"

"Nor am I. Please sit."

"Isn't that kind of division illogical?"

"I think so, but it is inconsequential. It does not affect my work, so I leave them to form their factions."

"Smart."

Geoff had assumed that they would pass the meal in silence, but as it turned out, Sovan was the conversational type, which suited him just fine.

They talked about tea and the Terran Quarter. They spoke about coffee culture, which seemed to fascinate Sovan endlessly. They also talked about why Geoff had applied to the internship on Vulcan, knowing how greatly the planet differed from his own home world. It was easy conversation, the kind that M'Benga was used to striking up with strangers. It lasted until they got back to the floor, when they fell back into an easy, professional rhythm.

Sovan's presence made Seleya's absence almost tolerable, but toward the end of the day, he felt out of sorts and wasn't entirely sure if it was that lack of her or the lack of coffee to blame.

He stopped by her office on his way out only to be told by her nurse that she was in with a patient and would be with patients until much later that evening. So he left.

Waiting at the bus stop, he saw Sovan again.

"Nurse, Do you know what bus will get me from here to the Terran Quarter?"

He tilted his head very slightly then turned to a small rectangular pillar just to their left. "This is an information terminal. It has information on all the bus routes—schedules, destinations and delays."

"Is that what that is? It just looks like a white stump. I thought it was a distance marker or something. On earth, the info terminals are built into the bus shelters. How's it work?"

Sovan waved his hand over the top of the device and the first thing that came up was the estimated arrival times for the all the busses that stopped there. "Specific Inquiry." It beeped to indicate it was awaiting a request. "How does one get from this location to the Terran Quarter?"

"There are four stops in the Terran quarter." It replied in a heavy male voice, a far cry from the light, female voices of its Terran counterpart. "Please specify."

"Where in the Terran quarter do you want to go?"

"I don't know. I've never been there."

"The closest stop," the nurse said to the machine.

"One must take the number 10 bus six stops to the corner of Mahak and Paradaik streets."

Geoff sighed. "I'm too tired for this. I'm going to get lost, I know it."

Sovan looked between the terminal and the doctor. "I could come with you."

"You'd do that?"

"I have some time and I've been curious about this place, though there is no logical reason for me to go there on my own."

"Yeah, I'd appreciate that."

They sat together once the bust came. Geoff was trying to make note of the sights but got a bit nervous when they went past his apartment building.

"You know, I learned something about myself today."

"What is that?"

"For a Starfleet officer, I'm not very adventurous. I mean I've been to more planets than you can shake a stick at, treating this virus or containing that plague. But ask me to go a few blocks away from my apartment and I'm done."

"In fairness, I doubt I would be very adventurous in some major city on earth if I was alone."

"That's a comfort, I suppose."

"I also learned something about myself."

"What's that?"

"I am surprisingly open to spending time with people I don't know well."

"Nah, that's not you. That's me. I have that effect on people. Kind of my superpower."

"Yes, right after modesty, I see."

Geoff smiled and could see that with sarcasm like that, he and Sovan would get on fine.

"Doctor, I hope I am not over stepping my bounds by asking, but, why do you take public transport? I don't think I've seen any of the other doctors do."

"I just haven't gotten around to buying a car yet. Honestly I'm afraid that the experience will be so different that I'll be way out of my depth.

"I see."

"The Chief said he'd help me when he gets some time so I'm just waiting on that."

"It must be a privilege to spend so much time with him. He has never taken such an interest in an intern before. I have seen quite a few come and go. With the demands of the schedule and the additional work that the chief assigns, many don't make it beyond the first few days. Even Vulcans who are used to working at smaller hospitals are not equal to the challenge. He tends not to invest to more time than is strictly necessary."

"Well, I almost did leave. Not because of the workload, really. I can manage. I like to be busy. It was the culture shock and the attitudes of the other doctors that nearly ran me off."

"They are like that to everyone. I would not give them much thought. If I'd been here when you first arrived I would have told you then."

"Yeah, where have you been my whole life on Vulcan, Sovan?"

He stole a glance at Geoff as if trying to determine how much he could trust him. "I was on medical leave."

"So I heard. You're okay now, though, right?"

"Yes. I am fully recovered."

"Good. You keep yourself up. I need someone to eat lunch with."

The nurse appreciated that the doctor had not pressed for any more information. Perhaps if the subject came up again, he would tell him more.

Even at the first stop in the Terran Quarter—which the "locals" simply called The Quarter—it was like entering a new world. The patrons were dressed differently, there was laughter and music in the background.

"Looks like Rodeo Drive." M'benga commented, seeming only mildly impressed. "Okay, we're looking for a coffee shop with a mermaid as the logo and a sign that says established 1971."

"1971? That is not possible. This was not The Quarter in 1971."

"It's a chain. That's when it opened on earth."

"Ah."

"I see it!"

The smell in the café was simultaneously bitter and sweet, a strange combination that he wasn't sure he liked. The people ordering seemed to be speaking a different language altogether, running together the words of their request as if oxygen was at a premium.

"You want something?"

"I don't know."

"Would you be willing to try what I get for you?"

"Yes."

The doctor seemed to already know how to speak this coffee house language and placed an order. He had a rewards program installed on his comm and seemed excited to know that he earned additional points for checking in at an extraterrestrial location. He also bought sacks of unprepared coffee for making at home.

"Free coffee here I come!" he said as they crossed the store to pick up their beverages. "Do you know how fast I'm going to earn points at this rate? By my fourth year here, I probably won't have to pay for coffee at all."

"You seem to consume alarming amounts of this drink."

"I do. I really do. I ordered you a chai tea. If you typically drink what you gave me this morning, you should like it."

And so he did.

They left, deciding it would be better to drink while they looked around. Geoff was on a new mission to find what he called a decent coffee machine that he could add to the refreshment room. The perfect machine he said, would only make coffee and coffee drinks. When a machine did too much, it ended up not making anything well.

They found what they were looking for in a department store toward the center of the Quarter. He also bought a cup that indicated what level the liquid in the cup had to reach before he would be coherent enough to carry on a conversation. The "Okay, you can talk to me" line was the last one and would probably mean that there was barely a sip left. He tried to explain that this was the humor of the mug.

He also picked up a few articles of clothes and items for his house.

It was jarring, walking around the store, with its bright white floors, glass counters and mirrored pillars, how at home the Terrans had made themselves, even though there were so few of them here. One could barely tell what planet they were on once they were inside.

They explored leisurely while Sovan tried not to gawk at the novelty of it all. Everything was so alien.

"Well, I can't expect to find a good dashiki in here, but it'll do." M'Benga critiqued as they checked out. "What do you think?"

"It's…Terran."

"Yes. Yes it is."

* * *

T'Mor made arrangements to bring Geoff to the museum with her the night she met him. She'd taken it upon herself to correct his limited view of Vulcan. Science was fine, necessary in fact. But as far as she was concerned art was an equally important part of her people's daily life.

She met him in the city's center on the front steps of the Shi'Kahr Museum Of Art.

"Was it difficult for you to find?"

"No," he said, climbing the stairs after disembarking the bus. "I recently learned to navigate the public transportation system."

"Very good. Our timing is good. There are several interesting exhibits here now, including pieces that rarely leave Gol."

"Well, I'm at your mercy. Teach me everything."

"Everything is a lot. Even I don't know _everything_. But I will teach you what I can."

"Good enough."

The marble-like stone of the museum made it a bit cooler inside than out, which automatically made it a pleasant experience.

"Let's start in the contemporary wing."

The pieces weren't very different from what he was expecting to see. There were a lot of neutral colors and geometric shapes. Each one was like a formal study of form, color and the principles of aesthetics. As they moved backward through Vulcan's art history though, this became less true. Bight, passionate colors crept in along with rough, organic shapes and dynamic compositions. Until they traveled back far enough to see portraits of warlords and abandoned deities.

T'Mor explained the pieces she recognized and allowed the info screen beside the art to expound on the ones she didn't.

It was hard to reconcile the logical people with old paintings of lovers wrapped in an embrace or warriors mounted on terrifying beasts. As on earth, much of the old art was religious, depicting gods and goddesses of war, fire, death and harvest. The ancients seemed particularly fond of the latter. T'Mor explained that they hoped to flatter the goddess into a productive season by depicting her as often and as beautifully as possible. Now that he'd seen these things, he could draw parallels with the modern pieces they'd started with. They didn't seem as sterile as they had because he was beginning to understand the earlier works that had influenced them.

The building its self was massive and it became apparent that they would not be able to cover the whole thing in a day. They had apparently neglected several movements and periods. They had not even approached the fashion wing or the exhibit of a well-known photographer. Everything was indeed a lot. But they'd made a dent and that was a start.

* * *

In the weeks that followed, the doctor fell into a simple routine. He made his way into work, first on the bus and later in his car. He had coffee on the way to the hospital and Sovan had his schedule ready and waiting for him by the time he approached the nurse's station. The chief kept him busy with patients and supplemental research. It was like being in school again, but school was all Geoff had ever really known so it suited him just fine.

In the quiet moments of the morning, the chief would take M'Benga in his office and try to teach him to meditate. It was slow going and Vess blamed the caffeine for the other man's difficulty in quieting his mind but Geoff knew that it was just the way his mind worked. He'd think a million things at once if it kept him from having to let silence creep into his thoughts. But he eventually learned to breathe mindfully and even drink mindfully. Still, he wasn't able to meditate properly yet.

Most days he was able to see Seleya in the atrium unless she had patients or it was her day off. He got into the habit of accompanying her to the rehab. She'd lead her group sessions and he would ramble around the place with Selden, playing piano or petting the horses.

He did everything in his power to prolong going home. He read in the hospital library, catching up with all the text the chief wanted him to review. He treated Seleya or Sovan to dinner whenever they would let him. He even took on extra work. But inevitably, he'd end up back at the penthouse, music playing softly in the background.


End file.
